Scoring Lacey (7 page)

She swore the mixture screamed in pain when he dumped everything into the frying pan, begging for mercy. It was an unholy mess on his plate and he added more back bacon. Her mother would kill him if she knew how much bacon was on that plate, let alone the salt.

“The boys took care of you last night?”

Boys?
Fuck. “No. I stripped naked and ran up and down the street, yelling ‘Go Steam Go!’ ” Her father glared at her, not because she mentioned Shayne’s NHL team but for her sarcasm, as he picked up his knife and sawed his omelet.

And sawed.

And sawed.

God love her father, he was a horrific cook.

“Sweet baby Jesus, what is that?”

She glanced at the doorway at the startled cry and saw Shayne was looking at Coach’s plate with what could only be described as disgusted horror. His hair was wet and he had shaved. Where had he found a razor? Like her, he wore last night’s clothes. Unlike her, she bet he was still wearing his shorts. Jerk.

“Wise ass. Both of you.” Coach pointed his knife at Shayne then at her.

Lacey batted her eyes innocently then drew a circle around her head like a halo. Shayne snorted as he passed by her to help himself to coffee. He leaned against the counter beside her, smelling of soap and man. She wanted to rub against him and climb him so she could kiss that mouth.

Lacey set her mug down and eased away from Shayne. “I need clothes that don’t smell like smoke.” She kissed her dad’s cheek. “It was a fantastic barbecue, Dad. And way to kick their ass yesterday. Bring Carm home whenever you’d like.”

“Bye, baby.” He patted her shoulder then returned to tackling his, for a lack of a better word, breakfast. She retrieved her camera, found her purse in the living room then headed out to her car.

The knock on the passenger window made her heart stutter.
Don’t do it. Don’t unlock that door.
She hit the button and Shayne slid into the seat beside her.

“This is not smart,” she said, nervously. God, he made her so...nervous. Giddy. Hot.

“Drive. Told your dad I was going to snag a ride to Todd’s. Something about hangovers, floors, and his breakfast.”

Lacey licked her upper lip as she thought of a million reasons why this was a bad idea.

“I swear to God, Lacey, if you don’t get out of this driveway, I’m going to fuck you right here. Drive.”

She drove.

Never had she been so aware of another person in her life. His breathing was a little heavy, his hair was already beginning to dry while hers was still damp. Like her clothes, the smell of wood smoke drifted from his. She saw his hand curl into a fist then slowly ease open one finger at a time, a man strangling his control. He was the one who opened the glove compartment and removed the remote, opening her garage.

“Get. Out.” His voice was low and raspy and she flicked a glance at him. His jaw was clenched, his eyes closed.

Her hand shook as she opened the door then walked to the door. Her heart sounded loud in her ears. Louder than his door slamming shut behind him. The clatter of her keys on the hall table sounded like a gunshot. The thump of her purse on the floor sounded muffled. A hand grabbed her wrist and she was yanked back and turned.

Heat.

That’s all there was.

Heat.

His mouth claimed hers with hunger, his tongue licking and teasing hers as he drew her shirt up, breaking contact long enough to fling it towards the living room. “Fuck.” He dragged her into him as he backed her towards her room, his hands battling with her bra. “This thing is...”

She pushed up his shirt and he was the one who yanked it off, dropping it behind him. She was the one who released the clasp of her bra. He was the one who ripped it off then slammed her hard against the wall.

“Smelled you all night.” His hands slid down her arms, caught her wrists then pinned her hands above her head. “The smell of your skin,” he lowered his head and inhaled along her neck. “Your hair. Your orgasms. Fuck, your orgasms, Lace.”

She could only pant as his hands caressed down her arms, every finger leaving a blazing trail.

“Your clothes. I tasted you all night.” He rested his forehead against hers so she had no choice but to gaze into eyes turned golden with arousal. “Tasted you on my tongue so there was no tequila left. Tasted you on my lips until I thought I’d lick them raw. The feel of you against me, all night.” He groaned, his eyes closing. “All night. Was hard all night. Hurting for you. I knew when you were gone, Lacey.”

Shayne’s eyes opened and her breath caught in her throat. Dear God. His fingers lightly caressed her waist while he looked at her with such passion it left her feeling weak.

She lowered her hands so her wrists rested on her head lacking the strength to hold her arms up anymore. Lacey couldn’t look away as he slowly unbuttoned her jeans then slid the zipper down.

“You’re not wearing panties.”

She shook her head then gasped as his hand slid into the parted vee of her jeans. His fingers searched for the slickness of her pussy.

“You’re not wearing...” his voice faded as he shut his eyes, swallowed then caressed over her hip and down her ass.

He yanked her hips into his as he ravaged her mouth with another one of his searing kisses. Fingers squeezed and caressed, rocking her against the heavy bulge behind his jeans. His other hand tugged on the side of her jeans. It wasn’t graceful. It was a jerky move that was sexier in its lack of coordination. This man who could nab a puck out of the air was yanking sporadically on her jeans until the waistband was past her hips.

He growled as he palmed her other ass cheek in his hand and pinned her between the wall and his hard body. His hips rolled forward, his erection rubbing and rubbing, his hands squeezing and squeezing.

“Shayne.” She grabbed his hips, rising up on her toes so he hit her...right...there. “Oh, God, Shayne.”

“Fucking in you,” he snarled as he slammed hard against her, driving her into the wall. “In you now.”

Her knees buckled and she found herself on the floor, two hundred pounds of aroused male surging against her. Her jeans hampered her movement. He was dressed. She wanted to feel him inside her. Needed it like most people needed water. He pushed off her long enough to rip her jeans away and then with a groan he was back.

Her legs hooked over his thighs as she cried out against the rub of denim, the scrape of button over her clit. His kisses were addicting. It was the lack of control, the onslaught of hunger that left her breathless. She didn’t want polite, sweet kisses because that wasn’t who he was.

He was raw and savage and untamed.

She liked that he was so aroused by her he had no control. She felt his hand between them as he battled his fly and she gripped the back pockets of his jeans as she watched this man above her. With a grunt, he gripped her ass and slammed hard into her.

Hard enough to scoot her on the floor. Hard enough to make her cry out. Hard enough to make her see stars.

Sex with Kevin had never been about this. About passion and desire and greedy need.

“Oh God,” she moaned as she felt the full flesh slide within her, driving thrusts in and almost slow retreats as if he didn’t want to leave her. She caressed up the shifting muscles of his back. God, he was strong. It was sexy how strong he was. Curious, she dragged her hand down, scratching along his spine.

He arched up from her, his hips plunging hard against hers, while he hissed. His eyes opened and his smile was sinful. A brawny arm was braced above her head as he tried to rein in the fierce thrusts.

“Don’t,” she pleaded as she slid her hands under the loose jeans to the smooth, warm flesh of his ass. “Don’t hold back on me. Don’t.”

“Want it to last.”

She shook her head. “Don’t hold back. Don’t.”

Fingers dug into her ass and he dragged her closer. “Then I won’t.” And he didn’t. He took her hard on the floor, every slap of his body against hers making her cry out. “Come, Lace. Want to feel you come.”

“Yes.” She gripped his hips and met those deliciously erotic strikes of his body.

“Come for me, baby. Let go and come. God, you’re wet.” He grabbed her thigh, hiking her leg up higher on his hip. “Sucking against my cock, so wet. And hot. God, you’re steamy. Come for me. Fuck me and come.” His hand was gentle despite his words and thrusts. “Want to feel this sweet pussy squeeze me as you arch up and...”

She bowed up and he hissed a yes in her ear as she came. A muffled sound came from him before he gave one, hard final thrust and buried himself in her. She felt the warm silky spurts as he came in her, his hand squeezing her ass. He held her against him as little jerks came from him.

He sank onto her, heavy and sweaty and so delicious. A shift of his head and he was kissing her with a drugging intensity. “Lacey,” he whispered as he buried his face in her neck, rolling her so she lay on him. He slipped from her, his cock lubed from both of them.

No condom.

Two more terrifying words in the world she didn’t know. He was soft and damp against her thigh. She rested her cheek on his chest and heard the frantic thumps of his heart.

“I came in you.” The words were spoken slowly and dazed.

She nodded.

“I’ve never...” He cupped her hips then eased her off of him. A curse escaped him and he sat up, his gaze landing on the damp spot on her floor.

To see such a confident man this bewildered was a little scary. No thoughts of birth control had entered her mind. That was logical and nothing that had happened since the other night was logical. “Shayne?” She touched his tattooed wrist and felt him flinch as if she had lashed him.

“Never,” he repeated in a low whisper. His head lifted and he looked shattered. “I have to...” He looked around, so lost her heart hurt.
This
was the boy she remembered. “Go.” He nodded as he once more looked at that damp spot. “Go,” he whispered.

It was painful to watch him slowly get to his feet. His hands were shaking. He had the sturdiest hands. He zipped his jeans then stood there. Lost. She knelt on the floor, her thighs sticky from their orgasms, and watched him unravel before her.

He recognized his shirt and picked it up. He looked at it like he didn’t know what it was for.
Oh Shayne
.

A harsh exhale came from him. “I’ll call.” And he left.

The front door quietly clicked behind him and she stayed on the floor for a long time, tears sliding down her cheeks.

Shayne rolled the puck back and forth before him, yesterday morning replaying through his mind like a scratched record.

There was one fundamental truth: he had come inside Lacey.

Fuck, she’d felt good. Slick and warm, wet and welcome. Never in his entire sexual life had he gone without a condom. First because he hadn’t wanted to knock up some girl and wind up stuck in Granville, his dreams of the big league in ashes. Then once he made it onto an NHL team it had been because he’d be damned if someone would wave a paternity paper in his face.

He didn’t want kids. Ever.

He had come inside Lacey.

Tapping the black puck, he watched it roll until he stopped it with his other hand. Back and forth it went.

“This is a surprise.”

Putting two fingers on the puck, he halted its motion and watched Lacey enter the small office that was hers inside the arena. Framed photos were on the walls. Pictures she had taken. Some were of the girls, some of her family, some of MHS. A collection of yearbooks was on a bookshelf. Yearbooks filled with her photos.

She had left modeling after a few years and had found herself behind the camera. He recalled it had started as a hobby. But she was good. She was really, really good. Some big name hockey players called her for photos because she had this way of taking a picture that made one feel as if he was in the middle of the game.

“I couldn’t stay at Todd’s. Too many thoughts.” And all of them contradicted each other.

Shayne stared at the Husks logo on the puck because it was easier to look at than Lacey. That didn’t stop him from being aware of her setting a fancy camera on her desk or walking back and shutting her office door with a loud click. She sat on the edge of her desk not far from his hand. Damn her, she was wearing a little denim skirt that flashed miles of leg.

Okay, honestly it ended at her knees but it was still too short.

He was in hell and he wanted to lower his head to her lap while exploring all that bare leg. His brain was in turmoil and his body was all
Ooh, Lacey playground. Can we play, huh huh? Can we?

With an exhausted sigh, he leaned back in the chair and looked up at Lacey. Yes, she was beautiful. There was no denying the truth. There was also something reassuring in the way she watched him with cognac eyes looking soft and understanding. Even if the woman weren’t Lacey, he’d still be sitting here. Todd was his best friend but he couldn’t imagine sitting before him like this, feeling raw and vulnerable. He hated that word.

Vulnerable.

It was so victim sounding. He was no victim.

His hand squeezed the puck. Six ounces of vulcanized rubber. His thumb rubbed over the rough edge then the smooth face where he traced the logo. It was the singular most consistent object in Shayne’s life. It never changed, was never improved. It was perfection and you couldn’t improve on that. “I don’t want kids, Lace.” His gaze bounced up to hers before returning to the puck. “Ever.”

“I figured.”

“I should get a vasectomy. Every time I book it though, something happens. But the women I fuck, I wouldn’t exactly want to dip my dick into them unprotected.”

A little laugh escaped her. “Never boff the bunnies, Shayne.”

He shrugged. He had no excuse for sleeping with the hockey chasers. They were there. They were handy. It was sex. Just sex. He didn’t do relationships. They came with expectations and promises. Donnellys didn’t do expectations or promises.

“I’ve never,” he exhaled, breaking up his thought. Leaning forward he set the puck back on her desk then looked up at her. “I never wanted to go bareback. Ever. All it takes is one determined sperm and everything changes. I didn’t want to be stuck here. I would’ve been stuck here. Am I shallow? I’m shallow. Once I left Granville I didn’t want a kid to hold me back. Then once I became really good, I didn’t want a kid to be a hostage negotiation for money. Always condoms.
Always
. Only mine, never hers because there’s sabotage: a pin, a fingernail, old condoms.
Always
.” He met her steady gaze. “Until you.”